


Birthday to Remember, A

by glassonion_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-03
Updated: 2002-10-03
Packaged: 2019-06-19 08:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15506313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassonion_archivist/pseuds/glassonion_archivist
Summary: Lindsey's thirtieth birthday turns out to be one he'll always remember





	Birthday to Remember, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Glass Onion](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Glass_Onion), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Glass Onion’s collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/glassonion/profile).

 

Birthday to Remember, A

## Birthday to Remember, A

### by Evil Willow
    
    
         From: "Evil Willow" <>
         Subject: [glass_onion] A Birthday to Remember (Angel/Lindsey; NC-17)
         Date: Sunday, September 08, 2002 10:50 PM
    
         Title: A Birthday to Remember
         Author: Evil Willow
         Rating: NC-17
         Spoilers: Everything through Dead End... 
         Distribution: My site, others who have other fics
         of mine and all lists this is sent to may archive
         the fic. Anyone else who wants it just ask.
         Category: Story/Romance
         Keywords/Warnings: Slash (Angel/Lindsey), _lots_ of
         smut (Angel/Lindsey)
         Summary: Lindsey's thirtieth birthday turns out to
         be one he'll always remember
         Author's Notes: This is set a few years in the
         future. Connor doesn't exist. Darla and Drusilla
         left town a long time ago and never came back;
         Darla was never pregnant. Lindsey and Angel are
         semi-together now, how and why are explained in the
         fic.
         Dedication: To CrazyEvilDru, my favorite beta, this
         was a birthday present for her but it turned out to
         be good enough to share
    

* * *

Chapter One 8 p.m. 

I walk through the door and throw my suit jacket on the nearest chair on the way through the apartment. It's late and I'm tired. At least I got away from work by sundown. I stop in the kitchen and grab a beer as I check my phone messages. 

"Hey, Big Brother! Happy birthday! I hope Angel's going to make sure you have a great one. When am I gonna meet this guy, anyway? Soon I hope. Love ya, Lin! Oh... by the way, call Momma, would you? I gave her your number but then she was upset that I had it and she didn't and it just turned into a whole big mess... And I know, it's your birthday, I don't mean to guilt trip you but _you_ don't have to live with her...So, just call her Lin. Please? She wasn't the one who kicked you out, and Daddy's been gone for five ye--" 

I cut off the rest of Emmy's message by hitting the erase button. The last thing I need tonight is to deal with Momma. Later, maybe. Much later. I turn and rummage through the cupboard for my migraine medicine. 

Fuck, this is really shaping up to be a _great_ birthday. 

"Hey, Lindsey. It's...you know who it is." 

Angel. And something tells me this message is going to make my headache even worse. 

"I know I said I'd get away tonight and I really tried. But Cordy's had a few visions already and they just won't stop. I'll call you if things calm down, but I just don't--" "ANGEL!" "--Gotta go, Linds. I _am_ _so_ sorry. Happy birthday." 

Well, shit. That's just wonderful. 

I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, though. Of course Angel wouldn't put me first. He never has. His friends don't know about us, even though we've been together for three years. He's kept us a secret. I'm not really sure what it is he's keeping a secret, though. I don't know what _we_ are... Sometimes I think we're friends, but other times I think that he doesn't even like me. We're not lovers, not in the traditional sense anyway. We hang out, we talk, we have sex... all the things typical lovers do... but then after the sex, when I'm asleep, he leaves. He never says goodbye, I just wake up when I hear the door shutting behind him. And then for the next few days, I wait for him to call. 

I've never called _him_ , because I know without even asking that he wouldn't like that. So I just wait. Why? For the same reason I came back to L.A. I couldn't stand another day not at least seeing him. As much as what we have hurts sometimes, it's better than nothing. 

I just wish I could be as indifferent about us as he is. I meant to be. I wanted him so badly, and I thought it was just a physical thing. And it was at first. 

But then I went and fell in love with him. And that shouldn't surprise me. I have a bad habit of falling for the wrong person. It's what got me kicked out of the house at the age of sixteen. Well, actually what got me kicked out was when I told my dad I thought I might be gay, because I was in love with my best friend Michael. That got me kicked all the way across country to good old L.A., to live with my Aunt Amy and Uncle John. 

And in Michael's defense, that wasn't his fault. So maybe it wasn't a case of falling in love with the wrong person. It was making the mistake of telling the wrong person about it. A mistake I won't make this time. I'll learn to deal with my feelings for Angel, or... 

No 'or'. I'll just deal. 

And for tonight, I'll just take that migraine pill and go to bed. 

I feel a hand on my shoulder and just barely keep from jumping out of my skin. I turn around and let out a sigh of relief. Angel, looking so fucking sexy, in those black leather pants he knows I like, along with a black silk shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned. Damn, I'm hard. I just wish this fucking headache would go away, because I'm really not in the mood for anything except sleeping. 

"Surprise," he says with a smile. 

"I thought..." 

"I got away," he shrugs. "Did you really think I wouldn't on your birthday?" he adds, with this 'how could you possibly think that' look on his face. 

I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything. 

"Bad day?" he asks, actually looking concerned as he steps closer and slips his arms around my waist. 

"The usual," I sigh as I lean against him. "A few difficult cases... don't want to talk about it," I say. It's bad enough that I have the job of an assistant D.A, which is a hundred times more stressful than being a defense lawyer for the worst hell demons imaginable. I also tend to make the mistake of getting too emotionally involved in my cases. I guess Angel helped me find that soul, after all. 

I turn again and open the bottle of pills. 

"You have a migraine again?" he asks. It's not an unusual thing for him to find me too tired or in too much pain to do anything other than just hang out. 

"Working on it." 

"The message from your sister probably didn't help that any, either," he says. "Sorry," he adds. "I couldn't help hearing." 

I just shrug. "It's nothing. I come from your typical dysfunctional family." 

"Hm," he replies, taking the bottle from my hand. 

"Hey--" 

"You don't need pills to make that headache go away. C'mere," he says, taking my hand and leading me into the living room. He points to the couch and I sit. What the hell, if he wants to help, I'm not going to refuse. 

He walks around behind the couch and starts to knead my shoulders. He starts out gentle, and I sigh contentedly, leaning into his touch. Okay, so maybe this isn't going to be such an awful birthday after all. 

"You're really tense, Lover," he says. 

"No kid-ow!" is my response when he hits a particularly painful knot in my right shoulder. 

"Sorry," he says, letting up a little. After a few more minutes, during which I close my eyes and start to relax, he moves his hands to my temples, rubbing in circular motions with his fingers. 

Okay, this is _much_ better than prescription medicine. 

"Helping?" he asks. 

"Oh yeah," I sigh. "Thanks, Angel. And I'm sorry. I'm sure this isn't the way you planned tonight." 

"You don't need to apologize," he says. "Besides, the night's still young. I'm not giving up on my plan of making you scream yourself hoarse with pleasure before sunrise." 

Shit. I'm so fucking hard it isn't funny. The headache is starting to fade, too, which something I'm very grateful for because I really want him now. 

He starts to massage my scalp gently. "How's that?" 

"Perfect," I sigh as I close my eyes and feel all the tension from earlier disappearing. "What would I do without you?" 

Fuck, why did I say that? He doesn't say anything in response, just keeps massaging my scalp. I wonder what he's thinking. I don't know if I'd be able to deal with it, if he found out how I felt about him. 

"How'd you get so good at this?" I ask, finally, in an attempt to keep him from analyzing what I might have meant by my earlier remark. 

"Cordelia," he replies. 

Oh yeah. Her vision-induced migraines. And I'm not jealous when I think about him touching her... Not _too_ jealous, anyway. 

He runs his hands down to my neck and the pounding in my head is gone. But my neck and shoulders are still pretty tense. And God, I could fall asleep if I weren't so turned on by his touch. 

"Better?" he asks, after a few more minutes, running a hand through my hair. 

"Much," I say, opening my eyes and looking up at him. "Thanks." 

"Hey, it wasn't a completely selfless act," he grins as he moves around the couch and sits next to me. He grabs my face and kisses me. God... I love kissing him. He's way too good at it. Every time his tongue thrusts inside my mouth it makes my knees go weak. It's a good thing I'm sitting down, so that isn't an issue. 

He pulls away too quickly and I whimper, trying to capture his lips with mine again. He smiles and stands, holding out his hand. "Get dressed. Then we'll go." 

"Go?" I ask, confused. 

"It's all part of your birthday present," he replies. "Trust me?" 

I really shouldn't. But I do, so I nod and stand. "All right. But I gotta tell ya, my idea of a perfect birthday would be spending the next eight hours in bed," I say. I almost add 'making love' but I stop myself in time. 

"Didn't I say part of the plan was to make you scream in pleasure a few hundred times tonight?" he reminds me with a smile. "Just be patient." He leans down to kiss me and adds, "And stop pouting. It's too fucking sexy." 

I turn away so he won't see my grin. I love getting those random compliments from him. It's much easier to believe _them_ than the things he says when we're having sex. 

I head back toward the bedroom and start to rummage through my closet. "I suppose you won't tell me where we're going, but you gotta give me an idea of what to wear," I say. "Casual? Dressy? Somewhere in between?" 

He walks over behind me and pulls me into his arms. "Well... I think you look great in anything, but of course I prefer seeing you in nothing," he says, nuzzling my throat. 

I moan and tilt my head to the side so he can nibble and suck at the pulse point. Shit. I've thought hundreds of times about how it would feel if he bit me. He hasn't done that, and I don't know why. He has to know I want it. 

He runs his hands up my chest and starts to unbutton my white dress shirt. I raise my hands to help, but he bats them away. "No. I don't want you to do anything except let me take care of you tonight." 

That sounds really good to me. But I just wish he knew what it does to me when he says shit like that. I just... melt. 

His hand moves down to cup my cock through my pants, and I moan. 

"Like that?" he, grazing his teeth over my earlobe. 

I whimper and arch into his hand. "You know I do," I reply, my voice husky with lust. "Fuck!" I yell when he presses me back against him and thrusts his hard cock against my ass. "Angel..." 

Suddenly, he steps back, taking away that wonderful physical contact. I want to scream out of frustration, and I'm considering it when he holds up a pair of blue jeans and a blue denim button-down shirt. "Okay?" 

"Whatever," I shrug. I really don't care. As long as they keep him looking at me like that, I'll be happy. 

"Good," he smiles and finishes unbuttoning my shirt. He slides his hands up my chest slowly to push the shirt off my shoulders, pausing to pinch and twist my nipples a couple of times, making me moan. 

"Angel sto--FUCK!" is my intelligent response when he kneels, pulls my pants and boxers down and sucks my cock into his mouth. "Ohgod..." I whimper, gripping his shoulders to try to keep myself standing. Shit, he's too good at that. He's been teasing me for too long and I can't take much more of it. 

His eyes meet mine, and I can see his grin. Oh shit, I can feel my balls tightening. "Angel, I'm gonna come," I warn him. Instead of backing off like I expect - he's never swallowed my cum - he takes me all the way in and works his throat around me. I come hard, screaming his name, and shooting my seed down his throat. He swallows it all, and continues to suck and lick my cock until I've come down from that incredible high. 

Oh my god. This is already shaping up to be a perfect birthday. Almost. It would be perfect if he actually loved me, but I can be realistic. This is as good as it gets for us, and that's still pretty damn good. 

He stands, handing me my jeans. I just shake my head at his stubbornness, but pull them on. I'm not all that upset about going out, even though I _am_ surprised. We've never been out together, before. We've spent all our time together here, in my apartment. That's not a terrible thing, but it made it quite clear to me that he didn't want to be seen in public with me. I'm good enough to fuck, but not good enough to take out on a date. 

At least that's what I thought. But now... No. Nothing's changed, other than he's trying to be decent to me on my birthday. I'll be grateful for that, but I won't expect it to happen again. 

He watches as I pull my shirt on and button it. "So when are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask. 

"Who said I was going to tell you?" he replies with a smile. "You'll know when we're there." And he really is acting odd, tonight. He seems happier and more relaxed. And I don't mind, it's a nice change. I just can't help wondering if the change will be a permanent one. For all I know, he just had a really good day, so I'm benefitting from an unusually good mood. 

I think too much. That's what Emmy always tells me, anyway. I told her about Angel, two years ago. Well, I told her a little about him. She doesn't know he's a vampire or that we used to be enemies or that we're not really together. She just knows he's the man I'm seeing. I haven't told her that I'm in love with him, but she probably knows anyway. I have told her I don't know where our relationship is going. Her response was that I should stop thinking about it and just ask him. 

Yeah, in a normal relationship, that would work perfectly. In this ... relationship... I don't know that I have that option. 

"Hey." 

I look up at Angel as I realize that my mind was seriously wandering. "Sorry, I was just ... let's go." 

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," he replies, pulling me into his arms. "This is your birthday, you're supposed to be happy." 

"I'm happy," I reply, managing a smile. And shit, talking about this is not the way to make me feel better, that's for sure. "I'm just still... trying to forget about some stuff that happened at court today," I lie. I hope it's convincing, but I doubt it because I've never been able to look him in the eyes when I lie to him. I try to mask the fact that I'm lying by looking for my boots. And yes, I can feel his eyes on me but I pretend that I can't. 

After I get my boots on, I have no choice but to look at him. He's got that suspicious look I know all too well. "Ready?" I ask, still pretending I don't know that he knows something's wrong and it has nothing to do with my job. 

"Fine," he replies, to my surprise. I turn and walk back out of the room, and he follows. We reach the door of the apartment before he grabs my arm and turns me to face him. Damn, I thought I was off the hook. 

I'm expecting him to start with the third degree, but instead he pushes me back against the door and kisses me, passionately. His tongue teases mine and licks the roof of my mouth, before he lets me push my tongue into his mouth. He thrusts his hips against mine and I whimper as I feel my cock stirring in response to the friction. He moves one hand to the base of my skull, as if he's worried I'm going to try to pull away from that talented mouth. The other hand wanders down to my ass, squeezing it and pulling me even closer to him. I grip his biceps, moaning as he continues to grind against me, turning me on even more. Fuck, the things he does to me. 

I pull my mouth away reluctantly to suck in a much-needed breath. He growls deep in his chest and latches his mouth onto my throat, biting down with his still-blunt teeth. "FUCK! ANGEL!" I scream, my knees threatening to give out. Luckily for me however, he's got me pinned to the door with his body, so I'm not going anywhere. "Ohgod please!" I beg. "Please," I repeat, sliding my hands through his hair, and holding his head against my throat. 

He groans and I hold my breath, thinking he's finally going to do it. He's going to drink from me. Shit, I want it so badly; can't he sense that? 

He pulls away suddenly, shaking himself, as if to shake off his desire to bite me. Damn it! He glances up at me, his expression apologetic, but I turn and open the door, walking out into the hallway. I don't want apologies. I don't _want_ him to try to tell me why he won't bite me. I already know. I know all about vampire lore and traditions and history. There are two reasons that a vampire will drink from a human, but not turn or kill drain him. The first reason is to claim a consort. A consort is more than a lover, it's basically as close as a human can get to being a vampire's mate. And of course Angel wouldn't want me to be that to him. He doesn't even love me. So then the other reason is to claim a... well, there are many terms for those humans. Whore and slave are the most common ones. And I suppose I should be grateful that Angel doesn't want to make me that. Or maybe he does and he just doesn't want me to know it. 

Fuck, I have got to stop thinking about all this shit. This was supposed to be about spending the night with Angel, enjoying my birthday. And now... Well, now he probably thinks I hate him, when the complete opposite of that is the case. 

"Linds--" I turn to look at him, and I hate that guilty look in his eyes. "I'm--" 

"Don't," I interrupt him. "Everything is fine, Angel. Let's just go, okay?" 

He frowns, clearly not wanting to let it go. He cups my chin and leans down to kiss me softly, just brushing his lips against mine. He straightens back up and says, "All right, Lindsey. Let's get out of here." 

I turn and walk to the elevator, punching the button. Now, for the long wait, while it makes its way to the penthouse suite. At least I saved a large portion of my paychecks from Wolfram and Hart for future use. I wouldn't be able to live this way, otherwise, on an Assistant D.A.'s salary. 

Angel pulls me back against him, and I fold my arms over his, threading our fingers together. No, I'm not mad at him. How can I be? So what if he doesn't want me forever, at least he isn't trying to make me believe it when it isn't true. He's being better to me than I deserve. 

I just wish I didn't love him so much. But I guess that was bound to happen. I didn't have a choice in whether or not to want him, not when I saw that perfect body, those soulful brown eyes, heard that deep, sexy voice... And I really didn't have a chance in hell about whether or not to love him, when he actually tried to save me. _Me_. After everything I did to hurt him, he still tried to save me! 

The elevator door finally opens, and we step inside. It's going to be a very long night, if I have nothing to do but think. I turn to face Angel, who's already looking at me intently. "So what have you been doing the past two weeks?" I ask. Then I realize that sounded like I'm pouting about the fact that he hasn't even called until a couple of days ago. And that's not the case. Really. "I mean... I haven't seen you. And that usually means you've been busier than usual saving the city. So... Want to tell me about it?" 

That didn't make him less suspicious that something is bothering me. If anything, it worried him more. Why is he worried, though? We're just... I don't know what we are and I refuse to contemplate it and give myself another migraine. 

"You know, Linds, we could do this the easy way," he says, stepping closer and tipping my chin up to look into my eyes. "Or I could just keep asking you until you answer me, even if it's for no other reason than to get me to shut up." 

"I don't know what--" 

He silences me with a kiss. A very forceful, passionate kiss. I groan and slip my arms around his waist, under his duster, as he starts to fuck my mouth with his tongue. Shit, I love it when he's this possessive. He ends the kiss and waits for me to look up at him. I finally do and he says, "I know that something is bothering you. I'm pretty damn sure it's something I did or didn't do. Just tell me what it is, so I can make you smile again," he says with this little smile. Then he pulls away and steps back. 

Love me. 

I shake my head; I will _not_ say that! I turn my back to him. "It's noth--" 

"I can tell when you're lying, Lover. Your heartbeat speeds up and you can't bring yourself to look me in the eyes. So try again." 

The elevator stops on floor six and the doors open. Angel and I step back to let a couple with a little girl, who looks to be about three or four, into the elevator. And I've never been so grateful to see neighbors before. They just saved me from having to have _that_ talk. 

The elevator begins its descent again and Angel moves to stand next to me, putting his arm around my waist and pushing his fingers into my back pocket. I slip my arm around his waist and lean into him. I have to bite my tongue to keep from moaning when he starts squeezing my ass. I glare at him and he just responds with an innocent "Who me?" look. Jerk. 

We reach the first floor and I sigh with relief. Not that I think the teasing will end, but at least I can make it stop for a few minutes. 

Or not. 

He keeps his hand in my pocket, pressing his fingers into my ass, making me wish he'd just fuck me already. He leans down to whisper something to me occasionally, usually about the fact that later tonight he's going to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk for days. I whimper and then notice more than a few glances in our direction and fuck, that just turns me on even more. 

Note to self. Angel isn't afraid of PDA. That means tonight is going to be really interesting... 

* * *

Chapter Two 

I look around for some clue as to where we're going, but I don't see anything that looks promising. We've been driving for almost thirty minutes. All I know is we're getting closer to downtown. "You sure you know where we are?" I ask. And I'm _so_ glad he's driving. That way I can stay on this side of the car, away from ... anything he'd do to make my hard-on more painful. 

"Positive," he replies. 

"And where is that?" I ask, trying to get some hint as to what he's getting me into. 

"The place where we - well, you - are going to eat dinner," Angel says. 

Dinner. Oh, yeah. I remember that meal. I have it... every once in a while. Anytime Angel's at my place. Because as he always says-- 

"I just wish you'd remember that you need to take at least a few minutes out of the day to eat lunch, Linds." 

Yeah, that's what he always says. I never pictured him to be such a mother hen, before he turned it on me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm comforted by it, though. Because if he gets worried about me, that means he cares a _little_. 

"Here we are," he says as he pulls the car into the parking lot of a club. Okay. We're going dancing? I didn't think Angel liked to dance. 

We walk in and stop just inside the door. The place is completely packed, and I imagine the air is just dripping with hormones. I check out the horde on the dance floor. Well, at least there's not a severe case of homophobia here. There are couples of every possible gender combination. 

I feel a hand cupping my cock through my jeans and I gasp, leaning back against him. He whispers in my ear, "Wanna dance, Lover?" 

I just nod and he pushes me out into the crowd, never breaking contact once. When we find a spot big enough to accommodate us, I turn in his arms and pull his head down for a kiss. I start to move to the music and he grabs my hips and pulls me against him, as he begins to dance too. The pressure of his hips against mine adds more friction, which increases my arousal. 

Still kissing him, I slip my hands up between us, to rub his nipples through his shirt. He groans into my mouth and I smile. I scratch my nails down his chest, hard, and he growls, pulling me even closer to him. 

"Angel please," I whisper, tearing my mouth away and looking into his eyes. "Please." 

He grins and spins me around, thrusting his cock against my ass, repeatedly. Shit. Fuck. Oh god. I will NOT come yet. I won't. It's embarrassing that he can drive me to the edge so easily. 

I whimper when he presses his hand to my groin, rubbing the heel of his hand against my cock. His other hand grips my chin, turning my head so he can kiss me again. And I'm so fucking close, whimpering and moaning into his mouth as the music blares around us. 

Suddenly, he squeezes my cock, making me moan loudly. "Angel!" 

He pulls away and smiles. "We don't have to dance if you don't want to. Why don't we go sit down and-- 

"No!" I growl, pressing myself up against him. I undo one of the buttons of his shirt and slip my hand inside, rubbing and pinching his nipple. He groans and captures my mouth again in a passionate kiss. God, he's so different tonight, so... content. Usually, he's in a bad mood when he shows up at my place. Sometimes we talk about the case he's working on, but more often he just makes me dinner and then we fuck. He's never been so playful, so at ease around me before. 

I just wish I knew what it meant, or if it even means anything. Damn it, isn't there some way to stop thinking so much? 

I whimper when Angel licks his way to my earlobe, sucking and nipping it. I've still got one of my hands inside his shirt, teasing his nipple. My other hand is on his ass, squeezing it. He starts to purr and I can't help smiling. I love when I can get that reaction from him. 

I gasp when I feel his hand on my cock. Oh my god. I didn't even realize he'd unzipped my jeans. I look around to see if anyone notices, because shit, we're on a crowded dance floor and he's giving me a hand job. I feel his nails scratch across my balls and I whimper, "Angel, stop." I don't try to pull away from him, though, because I just can't. 

"You sure that's what you want?" he murmurs in my ear, stilling his hand. 

Fuck, no, but... "We're in public," I point out unnecessarily. 

"Nobody's looking at us, Linds," he whispers, suckling my earlobe. 

"Angel," I moan and I can't help thrusting into his hand. I look around and don't see anyone watching us, but that doesn't mean nobody _is._ Shit, that thought just turns me on even more. 

"And even if someone did happen to look over at us, so what?" he asks. "All they'd see is two lovers dancing. Anything else they thought they saw would only be suspicions. So I don't see the problem, here... but if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop." 

He pulls his hand away from my cock and zips up my pants. I'm more than a little disappointed by the loss of contact but I'm also relieved. I'm just not _that_ much of an exhibitionist. I never knew Angel _was._

He slides his hands around to my ass, pushing his hands into my back pockets. And I know I said I wasn't an exhibitionist, but... I've been gazing at that patch of skin I bared by undoing that button. I lick my way over to the nipple I've been pinching and suckle it gently. 

"FuckLindsey!" he hisses, pulling me closer as he thrusts his hips against mine. 

I moan and bite down on his nipple, getting a growl in response. I lave the hardened nub with my tongue and he growls, "Stop." I look up at him in confusion and he whispers, "Stop right now, unless you want me to throw you on the nearest table and fuck you in front of everyone." 

Oh fuck. I shiver and pull away from him. "I am a little hungry." 

He nods and we walk over to a booth against the wall. God I'm so hard it hurts to walk. I don't know how I've managed not to come yet, but I'm glad to discover I actually do have more control than I thought I did. We sit next to each other and immediately Angel's hand is on my inner thigh, the fingertips almost touching the bulge in my jeans. The waitress walks over and I order dinner without giving away what my lover is doing to me under the table. Angel just orders a coffee and the woman walks away again. 

I look over to the front door and my heart drops into my stomach. Shit. I pull away from Angel, and walk away, not saying a word. I just can't. 

He doesn't want to let his friends know about us, and I'm fine with that. However, that means tonight is now ruined, since the three of them just walked into the club. 

"Lindsey?" he calls out to me. 

I ignore him though. I can't give into that pleading tone. When he sees Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley, he'll pretend he isn't with me anyway and go over to them. And I just can't live with that rejection, not tonight of all nights. 

He's blocking the bathroom door. Fucking annoying vampiric speed. "What the hell was that?" he asks, grabbing my arm. 

I shake him off, and step back out of his reach. "Don't touch me." 

He winces and jerks back as if I'd just hit him. "Why? Lindsey--" 

"Fuck, Angel, just look behind me. They're _here_ ," I whisper. 

He looks behind me and I can see in his eyes that he notices them. "Oh. You don't want them to see us together," he says. 

"What the ... _you're_ the one who doesn't want them to know," I reply, a little angry that he's trying to turn this one around on me. 

"Why would you think that?" he asks, with a frown. 

"Shit, I don't know, Angel, maybe it was the fact that in three fucking years you've never even mentioned me to them _once_ ," I retort. 

He blinks at me a couple times. "That's not... I just thought that you... oh fuck it," he growls. He grabs my wrist and pulls me over to where his friends are sitting. Oh god, why is he doing this to me? I can just see it now. 'You remember Lindsey, don't you? Well he and I are seeing each other. It's not serious, we're just having a good time. So that's why I never told you.' And then later they'll all have a good laugh about the fact that I'm so desperately in love with him that I don't even expect him to love me back. 

They're all staring at me in shock. They might not have even known that I was back in town, since I never go by the hotel and I never call him. 

We stop in front of their table and I brace myself for the impending humiliation. 

"Hey guys," he says, not letting go of my wrist. 

"What is _that_ doing here?" Cordelia asks, sparing me a brief glare before looking at Angel again. 

"This is going to come as a shock to all of you, but Lindsey and I have made our peace with each other. I've forgiven him and I can only hope that he's forgiven me. We've gotten closer in the three years he's been back. Much closer... What I'm trying to tell you all is that Lindsey and I are ... well, we're romantically involved." 

Cordelia spits her coke across the table, "What?" she screeches. 

"You heard me," Angel replies calmly. "We're together. I know it's unexpected, but I'm not asking for your okay on this. It's my decision and it's made." 

"Angel," Wesley says, "Granted, it's your life and we can't make you do or not do anything. However, I think I speak for all of us when I say that this is not a good idea. That man," he points at me, "has done too many evil things to mention, all in order to try to destroy you and--" 

"He's changed," Angel says. "He works for the District Attorney's office now. He hasn't even thought about going back to Wolfram and Hart. He respects me, we have a good time together. He makes me happy. He makes me so happy that for a while I was afraid..." he shakes his head. "We're together and I have no intention of either leaving him or letting him leave me anytime in the near future. And I didn't tell you all this so you could try to change my mind about it. I told you because it's something I should've done three years ago but I was too stupid to do that." He shrugs. "Well, that's all I had to say. Enjoy your evening." 

I feel his hand in mine and he pulls me away from where they're sitting. I'm in shock and have been from the moment he used the phrase 'romantically involved.' He defended me. And he said I make him happy. I knew he enjoys spending time together, but I never thought I made him _happy_. Hell, I thought I was safe because there was no chance of perfect happiness with me. I thought I was just someone he could use without feeling guilty about it. 

"Earth to Lindsey." 

I look up at him and realize we're sitting in his car. I don't even remember walking out here. 

"Can I take you home?" he asks. "I think it's time that we talked. I mean _really_ talked." 

I just nod, too tired to argue. He starts the car and most of the ride back to the apartment building is spent in silence. About halfway there, he reaches across to take my hand in his, and I move closer to him. He moves his arm around my waist, and I back against him. I close my eyes, and wonder how things got so fucked up. I really wish I didn't love him so much. Everything would be so much easier. 

Finally, we're at the apartment building. I'm relieved but also not. I want to talk, get everything out in the open, but I don't. I will, though. I've decided I just can't take all the stress of trying to keep him from knowing...everything. I'm still reluctant to tell him anything; I suspect that all these revelations can only end in the result of him leaving me. He's too noble to stay with someone he doesn't love, once he finds out that person is in love with him. 

There's a certain relief in accepting the inevitable, however. And I think that's what I'm mostly feeling now, as we walk inside and ride the elevator up to my apartment. He doesn't say anything or touch me, the whole time, other than to hold my hand. Again, something he just doesn't do a lot. It's more the action of a significant other, not something I've ever dared to believe he saw himself as. 

Another good thing about this talk is that I'll stop stressing myself out about all these questions. No more not knowing, no more worrying and wondering. I'm looking forward to that. 

* * *

Chapter 3 

"Beer?" I ask, grabbing a bottle out of the refrigerator for myself. 

"Sure," he replies. When I hand it to him, he grabs my hand, pulling me closer. He kisses me, gently and says, "So are we going to talk about what's been bugging you all night, or do I have to keep asking?" 

When he acts like this, I almost can believe he cares about me... but I know better. If he cared, we wouldn't have been sneaking around for the past three years. 

"Can't a guy be in a bad mood?" I ask, pulling away and walking into the living room. 

"I've seen you in a bad mood, Linds," he says, following me and taking my arm, turning me to face him. "And that's not what this is. Talk to me." 

Okay... I did decide to just get all of this out in the open, so... "What am I to you?" 

He blinks and steps back, "After three years together, I can't believe you need to ask me that question. Don't you know?" 

"What I know is that we have an irresistible physical attraction for each other, and for some reason we finally decided to act on it," I reply. "You come over occasionally, we fuck, and then you leave before dawn. That's what I know, Angel, the only things I know, because those things haven't changed since the first night you showed up at my door." 

"I remember that night," he smiles. "I beat you up." 

"Hey, I got several punches in myself," I reply indignantly. 

"Did you?" he asks. "I don't remember that," he shrugs. "I do remember how delicious you looked," he says..."Your skin was still wet from your shower, your hair was too, and it was all messed up... you weren't wearing anything but your jeans. I wanted so badly to fuck you, to make you scream my name. So I did." 

"Yeah," I reply, remembering how before I knew what was happening, he had me pinned to the floor, kissing me, and I was pulling off his clothes, wanting him so desperately. 

"That's... that's not the point," I say, shaking the memory off. "The point is I've always known what this thing between us was, and I'm okay with it." 

"This 'thing' between us?" Angel asks. "Why do you always refer to our relationship as a 'situation' or a ... 'thing'?" 

"Why do you always refer to it as a relationship?" I reply. "Don't you understand that I don't want you to lie to me because you think it's what I want to hear? I wouldn't be with you if I wasn't content with what we have. It's uncomplicated and easy and... what more could I ask for?" 

"Love?" he suggests. 

Oh boy. "I want you; you want me. Even when we despised each other, that was the case. It never had anything to do with love." 

"You didn't answer my question," he points out. 

Shit. "What we have is enough," I reply, turning away. 

"Well, _that's_ a lie," he says, and I wish he wasn't able to pick up on my lies so easily. "And you _still_ didn't answer my question." He moves around me and grabs my chin, tilting my head up so he can look in my eyes. 

"I don't expect you to love me," I say, pulling away. And that _is_ the truth. Expecting and wanting are two very different things. I turn and walk into the kitchen. 

"Then you don't expect enough for yourself, Linds," he says from behind me. "And you _are_ going to answer me before the night is out," he adds. 

"I'm not asking for you to love me." There, I answered his question. 

He chuckled. "I should've known better than to ask a lawyer a question without making sure it was worded right." He sighs. "Look at me, Lindsey." I feel his hand on my shoulder. "Hey... come on. _Look_ at me." 

I give in, after a few more seconds and turn, looking into his eyes. I almost think... but no. If I let myself give into wishful thinking, I'd make myself miserable. 

"You really believe that the only reason I'm with you is the sex?" he asks. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the sex is great" he smiles, "but I'm trying to figure out why you'd think that it's the only reason." 

I stare at him for a couple seconds. "You come over, we fuck, you leave before dawn." I know I'm repeating myself, but... it seems pretty clear to _me_. 

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. "I... sit down. Please." 

I shrug and walk over to the table, sitting in the nearest chair. He pulls a chair in front of me and sits. "Lindsey, I don't know where to start. I can't understand why we've never talked about any of this stuff. But I really suck at relationships, in case you hadn't figured that out," he adds with a small smile, taking my hand. 

"Stop calling this a relationship," I say, getting up from my chair. I turn to go but he grabs my wrist. 

"Even if that's how I think of it?" he asks. 

"This is a relationship?" I ask, looking down at him. 

"Didn't I just say I wasn't good at them?" he replies with a little shrug. "Lindsey, please just hear me out. Let me ... let me ... Maybe it's too late to fix the damage I've done, but I want to try. And after I'm done, if you want me to, I'll leave." 

Why would I want him to leave? I told him I was fine with this being about sex, and I meant it. If it's the only way I can have him in my life, I'll take it. 

I nod and sit back down. He keep hold on my hand and says, "I hardly know where to start. But I guess ... I guess I'll start with your belief that I didn't want my friends to know about us. That's not true, Lindsey. I've wanted to tell them for a very long time." 

"You haven't," I say. 

"Only because I thought you didn't want me to," he replies. 

"I never said that," I say, wondering where he got that idea. 

"No, not in so many words but... you never come to the Hyperion," he says. 

"So?" I ask. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "Why haven't you" he asks. 

"I... you don't want me there," I shrug. Why is he acting like this is a big mystery to him? 

"Since when?" 

"Huh?" 

"When did I say I didn't want you to come to the Hyperion?" he asks. 

"You... You... I..." I stop and frown. "I ... I can't remember." 

"That's because I never told you that," Angel says. 

But... he did say it... didn't he? I could've sworn he did... but... Maybe he didn't. 

"You've never come to the Hyperion, because you assumed I don't want you there," Angel says. "Since you've never come to my place, however, I assumed that was because you didn't want anyone else to know about us. And that's why I never told my friends about you." 

"But... Shit. That's why we've never gone out anywhere, before tonight, too... isn't it?" I ask. He just nods. And I can't believe it. The reason we've never been together except here in my apartment, the reason he didn't tell his friends about us, it was all based on a mutual misunderstanding. How could that be? We're grown men, and ... "Why didn't you ever ask?" I wonder. 

"Why didn't you?" he throws back at me. 

"I..." Good point. "I should have," I concede. "I guess..." I pull my hand away and look at the floor. "I didn't want you to think I wanted more out of ... us... than you did," I admit. 

His hand is on my chin and he makes me look in his eyes. "You want to hear something ironic, Linds? That's exactly why I didn't bring up those questions, myself." 

Oh. 

But... "You wanted more out of this - us - than just sex?" I ask, almost afraid to voice the question. 

"You know what? I hate that you even have to wonder that," he says with a sigh. He reaches out to brush his fingers across my cheek. "I'll admit that when we first got together, I thought it was only lust. That's why I didn't spend the night, for the first several months. But... but then I realized that it was so more than that, for me. And once that became clear, I _couldn't_ spend the night, for fear of letting my demon harm you if I... if I lost my soul." 

He stops and searches my face, as if he's trying to figure out what I'm thinking. And what I'm thinking is oh my god, if he's saying what I think he's saying ... "Don't do this, Angel," I plead. "Don't say something because you think I want to hear it. All I want from you is honesty." 

"You know me better than to think I'd lie to you, don't you?" he asks. "Oh. Maybe you don't," he says, shaking his head. "And that's all my fault. Shit, you can't imagine how sorry I am for not making it very clear just how much you mean to me, Lindsey. But I honestly thought that you could tell, when you looked in my eyes ... No." He takes my head in his hands, making certain that I don't look away. "That's just an excuse. The real reason was - is - that I'm just a huge coward, when it comes to this relationship, and I became an even bigger one once I realized I was falling for you." 

Holy shit. This has to be a dream. "Ouch!" I yell, when Angel pinches my arm. 

He smiles, "Would I do that if it was a dream?" 

I just stare at him, because I don't think I like how well he knows me. It's not safe and I'm only going to get hurt and-- Wait. "What did you say?" I ask. 

"Would I do--" 

"Not that!" I interrupt him, narrowing my eyes at him when he just grins. Jerk. "Before that." 

"What?" he asks, dropping his hands to my thighs as he leans forward. "You mean when I said I love you?" he whispers. 

Oh my God. I think I've lost my voice, so I just nod. 

"You weren't imagining it," he replies with a little smile. "I love you, Lindsey." And luckily for me I don't have to say anything in response, because he's kissing me. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck and before I know it, I'm straddling his lap as he slips his arms around my waist and holds me close... but none of that matters... Well, okay, it does, because it feels damn good. But it's not half as important as the fact that he just said he loved me. And I believe him, because when I looked in his eyes I knew he wasn't lying. And besides that, the way he's holding me and kissing me make me _feel_ loved. 

And the strangest part of all of this is that it feels so familiar. As if he's been trying to make me understand it, for so long. But I refused to let myself feel it, too afraid of getting hurt. 

I guess Angel wasn't the only coward here. 

* * *

Chapter 4 

Angel pulls away and smiles. "Well. If I'd known that was the response I'd get, I would've told you how I felt a long time ago." 

"I never said I didn't _want_ you to love me," I reply. If he's being honest, the least I can do is try that myself. I just can't believe that all this time... "When?" I ask. 

"When did I realize I was in love with you?" he asks. I nod. "It occurred to me the night of your twenty-eighth birthday. I didn't want to leave you, I wanted to stay and watch you sleep, and then wake you up and make you breakfast and...and it just hit me: I was in love with you. Not that it surprised me," he shrugs. "You're a good man, Lindsey, and I couldn't not fall for you after spending so much time with you. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me _happy_. 

"But like I said before, once I realized that I loved you, then I really _couldn't_ stay the night, as much as I wanted to," he adds. "And that night... I went home and I grabbed a stake and I just waited for the inevitable. 

"And I did feel it, that sensation that warned me I was going to lose my soul. But instead of ending my life, I fought it. I thought about all the awful things I'd done, all the reasons I had to hate myself. And that feeling of being ripped in two... it subsided, leaving me with my soul. But the fact that I'd come so close to losing everything, losing you especially... it scared me. I called Willow and I asked her to see if she could look into the gypsy curse, possibly modify it or come up with some way to keep me from losing my soul. And while she was doing that... I stayed away from you." 

My twenty-eighth birthday was two years ago. Shit. _That's_ when "You told me you'd been in another dimension for three months!" I yell. 

He nods. 

I get to my feet. "If you hadn't found a way to be with me... would you have said anything to me? Or would you just have stayed gone?" I wonder. "Would you have let me keep thinking that maybe you'd left me, but then again, maybe something terrible had happened to you?!" 

"Lindsey, I never meant to hurt you--" 

"You never meant...What the hell did you think just disappearing from my life would do?" I demand, backing away from him when he reaches out for me. "For three fucking months, Angel, I didn't know where you were. And after deciding you'd either left me or gotten killed... do you know what a fucking mess I was??? I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I could hardly function at work! I thought I was losing my fucking mind!" 

He stands and opens his mouth to say something but I don't want to hear it. "And then one night, three months later, there you were at my door, telling me that you'd been in another fucking dimension, unable to contact me. And I was stupid enough to believe you!" 

"Please," he says, grabbing my arm and turning me back to look at him, after I try to walk away. "Lindsey, I _am_ sorry. I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorry I left like that, I'm sorry I hurt you. But I didn't know what to do. I just ... I didn't know what to do, Linds. I didn't know how you'd react if I told you that I loved you so much you could make me lose my soul. For all I knew, you didn't feel that way about me. So I just ... I ran away," he shrugs. "And once Willow figured out something to keep my soul safe, I made up a story to explain my absence that would keep you from hating me." 

The way he says that... like he's afraid that's what _has_ happened... I can't let him think that. "I don't hate you," I say. "...but that doesn't mean I'm not still pissed." 

He nods. "I can understand. And to answer your question: no, I couldn't stay away from you, Lindsey. Those three months I was miserable, too... I missed you so much." 

Something about the way he looks at me when he says this, tells me: "Willow didn't fix it, did she. Because if that had been the case, you would've started spending the night." 

He sighs. "Willow had a lot of really good ideas. Potions and spells... but each time, I discovered, the hard way, that none of them were as powerful as the curse. I'd go home and after a little while I'd have to call Willow to tell her the latest one hadn't worked. Then I would chain myself up and wait for her to show up with a new potion or spell. 

"For two years, she's kept trying. She's never told me to give up. I think she knows just how much you mean to me." 

"Are you sure she's doing it for _us_?" I ask. And I don't know why I decided to open that can of worms. I know he hasn't spoken to Buffy in years... but I just don't think Willow would helping him if she weren't Buffy's best friend. 

""Both Willow _and_ Buffy know about you, Lindsey," Angel says. He takes my hand and adds, "And Willow _knows_ how important you are to me, because with Buffy I didn't fight this damn curse. I just gave in... because I knew that there were more reasons than that for us not to be together. But with you and I..." he shrugs. "I know it won't be easy, but I don't feel like there's any reason not to fight for us." 

Oh my god. I grab a chair and sit down before my knees give out on me. He sits down in front of me again. "But..." I look up at him. "All the things I did to you..." 

"Like I told the others, Linds, I've forgiven you for all of it," he says. "I forgave you the night you helped us deal with the spare body parts nightmare at Wolfram and Hart. I'd always suspected there was more to you than that driven, seemingly uncaring man who worked for them," he adds. "And that night I saw a glimpse of him. I'm just glad you came back to L.A. so I could finally get the chance to know the real you, because I really like the real you." 

He leans forward and kisses me gently. When he pulls away, he asks, "Do you think you can forgive me for not being honest with you about everything a long time ago?" 

That's not a hard question to answer. "Yeah, I forgive you," I say. "It's not like you were the only one who made this mess, Angel. I could've asked you how you felt... what you wanted out of this relationship... but I didn't. And I never told you how I felt about you, either." 

"I really wasn't fair to you though," he says. "And I'm so grateful that you didn't walk away from me because of it." 

"Yeah, well... there wasn't a lot of chance of that happening..." 

"Lucky me," he says and leans in to kiss me again. I sigh and slide my fingers into his hair, feeling completely content, finally. I can't believe we were both so stupid, as to not to just say anything about how we felt and resolve this massive misunderstanding. I thought _I_ was the insecure one, but maybe we both were. 

He pulls away and I say, "I love you." It's nice to be able to finally say that to him. 

"I like hearing that," he replies with a smile. "And I can't believe I never knew it... even though I can tell now, when I look in your eyes. I guess I wasn't looking for it before... and maybe you weren't looking for it, either. 

"But we're okay now, aren't we?" he asks. 

"Yeah," I nod. "It's amazing how talking can make things so much better," I smile. 

He chuckles. "What a surprise. Tell you what. Let's try that next time one of us has something on his mind, okay?" 

"Okay," I agree. 

"Okay," he whispers, placing his hands on my thighs as he leans in to kiss me again. His tongue licks at my bottom lip, seeking entrance into my mouth. I let him in, moaning when I feel my cock stirring. God, I didn't know I could be this happy. But Angel loves me. What is there not to be happy about? 

Oh wait. I push him away and he frowns. "Angel... your soul?" I ask. I have to know if I'm going to be waking up alone again tomorrow morning. 

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that," he says. "The last time we were together, two weeks ago you woke up when I was getting dressed. You remember how on edge I was?" 

"I remember," I say. Boy do I remember. I pointed out how close to dawn it was, and told him he could sleep here if he wanted. He practically bit my head off, informing me that 'he had important things to do.' 

"I'm sorry for snapping at you, by the way," he replies. " Willow had tried a spell that she was almost positive would be the equivalent of the gypsy curse without the risk of my losing my soul ever again. 

"But I couldn't risk your life on an 'almost positive'. So I left you, as much as I hated to do that. I went home, and I waited. I sat there, for hours, expecting to lose my soul... and nothing happened. I wanted to believe the new spell had finally worked, but I had to be certain it wasn't going to wear off... so that's why you didn't see me for the past two weeks. I just ... I just had to be sure." 

Oh god. "Your soul... it isn't going anywhere?" I ask. 

"As far as I know, it isn't," he says, brushing his fingers through my hair. "But... if you want to test just how well it withstands that perfect happiness test I'm sure we could do that," he suggests with a grin. 

"I like the way your mind works," I reply with a smile of my own. 

Angel pulls me into his lap and kisses me, so passionately. I wrap my arms around his neck, and slide closer to him. I need him closer. I need _him._ I whimper when he thrusts his hips up against mine. "Angel, please" I beg, pulling my mouth away, moaning when he starts to nibble at my throat. 

He looks in my eyes and says, "You want me to fuck you, Lindsey?" 

"God yes," I whimper. "I've been wanting that for hours." 

"I'll fuck you Lindsey," he says. "I think I'll fuck you right here, first," he says with a grin. "Then on the table..." he nods his head toward the kitchen table behind us... "and then I think we might make it to the couch... or the floor, or hell, both..." A quick kiss and he adds, "then the bed... unless I can't wait that long and in that case I'll just take you up against the wall in the hallway..." He slips a hand down to my ass and presses me closer, as he starts to thrust his hips against mine. 

"Ohfuck," I groan, my head dropping to his shoulder. I unbutton his shirt, sliding my hands over his pale, perfect chest. "Angel..." 

"And then I'll get you in that bed," he continues, moving a hand inside my jeans to stroke my cock. "But once we're there, I'm not going to fuck you." 

"Angel!" And yes that was me whining. 

"You didn't let me finish," he replies. He pulls my shirt out from the waistband of my jeans and slides his other hand underneath it, rolling and pinching a nipple between his fingers. "I'm not going to fuck you in that bed, Linds, I'm going to make love to you. I'm going to make you come so hard, and so many times, that you won't be able to decide whether to beg me to stop or beg me for more." 

I whimper when I feel his other hand slip underneath my jeans, the tip of his index finger sliding up and down between my ass cheeks. "Oh god please," I moan. He's got me panting and so close to coming, already. I thrust forward, into his hand, and push back, trying to get him inside me. 

"Patience, Lover," he says. He removes his hands and I whimper. I need him inside me so badly I can hardly stand it. 

"When you've recovered from our lovemaking, I'm going to take you in the shower..." he moves his hand down further to the base of my cock, his fingertips massaging my balls... "... and on the sink... and in front of the full length mirror..." He hisses and holds my head against his chest when I bite down on his nipple. I lave it with my tongue, soothing it, and then suckle it gently. 

"And then..." He's panting too. I love that I can do that to him. "I don't know where I'll take you after that," he says. "Wherever else comes to mind in the next several hours. And then, when you're so exhausted you can't take any more, we'll crawl into bed and I'll hold you in my arms and watch you sleep." 

Holy shit. I didn't know he could be such a romantic. And of course I love it, but -- "Shit, would you shut up already and just fuck me?" I say, raising my head to look in his eyes. 

He chuckles and kisses me quickly. He pulls away, pushing me to my feet. "First, you need to eat," he says. 

"What?!" 

"You'll need your energy," he replies with a grin. 

Fuck me. How can I argue with that? But still... "But--" 

"Humor me, Lindsey. Find yourself something to eat. I'll keep you company. Got any blood bags in the fridge?" 

I nod. "Don't I always?" 

"Yeah," he says with a smile. "Good, I'm getting hungry, myself. We'll both eat." 

I shrug and turn to look through the cupboards for something for a quick dinner. I guess I will humor him. I'm in a good mood... a better one than I've been in, in a very long time. 

* * *

Chapter Five 

I'm washing the dishes, because blood is really hard to wash out of a mug if you let it set and congeal. I can _feel_ Angel staring at me. Not that I haven't felt it for the past hour, while we ate. At least he was relatively good and didn't torment me while I ate. He kept his hands to himself. That's the only reason I was able to finish my sandwich and -- 

"I never understood people who washed their dishes before putting them in the dishwasher," Angel says. "Isn't that a little redundant?" 

I smile and lean back against his chest as he slips his arms around my waist. "Maybe," I shrug. "I do it this way because it's the way I always saw my mom do it... I suppose she did it this way because she didn't have a dishwasher... but I doubt the dishwashing habits of humans is what you really want to discuss.". 

"Nah," he agrees. "Who said I wanted to discuss _anything_? What I want," he thrusts his cock against my ass, making me whimper, "has very little to do with talking." 

He nibbles at my throat as he slips his arms around my waist. I lean back against him and moan when I feel his hand on my cock. Shit, when did he unfasten my jeans? 

"I know I said I wanted to fuck you in every room of your apartment," he says, pinching one of my nipples through my shirt, "but I think I want you in that bed first." 

Oh god. Fuck... he keeps thrusting his cock against me and I want him so badly... "Angel yes... please... " 

He removes his hands and says, "Give me five minutes, Lover, and then come back to the bedroom." He presses himself back against me and grabs my chin, turning my head so he can kiss me. The passion and possessiveness in it makes my knees weak and he holds me up with an arm around my waist. 

He grins as he pulls away and repeats, "Five minutes. And then I'm gonna spend the rest of the night making you scream my name." 

He leaves and I manage to make it to a chair and sit down. Five minutes. I can wait that long. Fuck, I'm so horny, though. He'd better not make me wait much longer than that. 

I look at my watch. One minute. Shit. That figures. What is he doing, anyway? I get up and start loading the dishwasher. Slowly. I smile as I think about what Angel said earlier. I know we humans have our quirks. My particular quirk being falling in love with the guy I was hired to destroy. Oh well, we can't all be perfect. 

I finish with the dishes and check my watch. Three minutes. Fuck, I'm dying here. He said five minutes but I think I'll just risk him getting ticked. Because did I mention I'm dying? Especially knowing that he wants to make love to me. And we've never done that before. Not that I didn't mind getting fucked by him, but I can only imagine how much more enjoyable it will be now. 

I walk quickly back to my bedroom and open the door. 

Holy shit. 

The lights are off but the room is lit by candles... too many of them for it not to be a safety hazard... they're everywhere... but I'm less interested them, and more in Angel, who's sitting on my bed, with his back against the headboard. He's completely nude, and stroking his cock. I just stand there for a moment, watching him. 

"Hey," he says with a smile. 

I don't have any voice, so I just stare at him. Because ... holy shit. 

"You're early, but I guess I won't hold that against you," he shrugs. "I want you too much, so...Take off your clothes, Lindsey," he adds. 

I nod but I can't stop watching as he jerks himself off. He figured out a while ago that I like to watch, and he never seems to mind putting on a show for me. He's so much more comfortable about that kind of thing than I am. 

"I'm waiting," he says with a smile. 

Oh yeah. Okay. I unbutton my shirt... or attempt to, inwardly cursing my uncooperative hands. I'm such a fumbling idiot when Angel's staring at me like that. Damn it! It's not that I'm afraid of him. I never was, not even when he was mere seconds away from snapping my neck. It's more about being nervous. Even after three years, every time we're together, I'm worried that I'll do something or say something wrong to snap him out of his temporary insanity in wanting me. And I know he loves me... but I don't know _that_ isn't temporary insanity, too. 

"Lindsey." I look into his eyes and that's much more calming than I thought it would be. I can breathe again, and my hands start functioning too. I finish unbuttoning my shirt and shrug it off. Then I kick off my shoes, as I push my jeans down my legs. 

He licks his lips, and I can't hold back a whimper in response. He smiles. "Boxers too, Linds." 

Oh yeah. Of course. I push those off and stand there, feeling way too exposed. And I just can't stop watching his hand as he moves it up and down his cock. 

"Come here." I look up and Angel's holding out his hand. "Come here, Lindsey. I need to touch you now. Not to mention taste you and bury my cock so deep inside you that you won't ever want me to leave... but one thing at a time," he finishes with a grin. 

"Ohgod," is my incredibly intelligent response as I walk over to the bed. I crawl over to him and he grabs my hand pulling me onto his lap. I straddle his thighs as we kiss, whimpering when our cocks brush together. 

And then suddenly, he's flipped me around and pulled me back against his chest. "Shit," I moan, as I feel his cock aligned between my ass cheeks. I shift a little, and whimper when he thrusts against me. Shit, he's not even inside me yet and I'm panting. 

"Fuck, Linds. Sit still," he growls, gripping my hips almost painfully. I can't help smiling; I love making his control slip. I do as he asks, though. I know that he'll give me what I need, eventually. 

"That's better," he says. He moves his hands up my body slowly, pausing to pinch and roll my nipples between his fingers until I'm whimpering and moaning. Somehow, I manage not to move, even though I'm dying to. 

He runs his hands down my chest and stomach to my legs. He pulls them apart, draping my legs over his and then just leaves his hands on my inner thighs. 

"Angel," I whimper. 

"I'm right here, Lover," he whispers in my ear. "I want you to do something for me, will you?" I just nod, because at this point I'd do anything he asked. "Close your eyes." 

Okay... That I can do. 

"All right, Lindsey. Now feel my hand around your cock. Feel me as I take it in my hand and squeeze it a little..." 

I moan and fuck, I think I almost _can_ feel his fingers around me. 

"Don't open your eyes." 

Shit. He read my mind again. But okay, I'll do what he wants. 

"Good. Now feel my hand sliding up and down along your length. My other hand is squeezing your balls, occasionally sliding down further to tease your tight hole." 

I whimper and grind my ass back against him. God he's not even touching me and I'm ready to explode! 

He groans. "Fuck... Lindsey... I slide my hand up and down... so slowly... squeezing occasionally, flicking my fingernail into the sensitive slit. And then my other fingers, slick with lube, massage your entrance... " 

"Please," I gasp. Shit, he's too good at making me lose it. My cock is twitching and I'm so close... just from his voice and the things he's saying to me. 

"You want me inside?" he asks. 

"YES," I moan. 

"All right, Lindsey," he replies, nuzzling my throat. "I push the tip of my finger inside you, slowly..." 

I gasp and grip his hands. 

"Do you feel it?" he asks. 

"Y-Yeah..." I whimper. And God... I swear I _can_ feel his finger stretching me. This connection between us is really frightening at times. 

"Tell me," he requests. 

Something else I'm not incredibly comfortable with... but this _is_ the man I love, and he loves me too. So... "You feel so fucking good inside me, Angel," I say. "I love to feel you stretching me, making me feel... complete...It only makes sense when you're inside me..." I don't know if that made sense, but it's the truth. My life hasn't made sense in years... and then when Angel and I started this thing, I felt like I'd found just what I was looking for. 

I didn't even realize it, but I'm moving my hand up and down on my cock. Something I've never done for him before. Damn, he's good. 

"I feel the same way," he whispers. "When I'm inside you, I'm exactly where I should be. And I never want to leave." His hand closes over mine, almost as if he knows that I'm too self-conscious to keep jerking myself off. He guides my hand slowly, at the pace he likes - and I like it too, of course. 

God, this is incredible, feeling his hand on mine, as we jerk me off, feeling his lips and teeth tugging at my earlobe, and knowing without any doubt that he loves me. It's all so unbelievably intense. 

"Angel," I moan. "Please... need you." I push back against his cock. 

He groans. "What do you need, Linds?" 

"Fuck, Angel, please, fuck me!" I beg. He squeezes my hand around my cock, tighter and I whimper. Our hands slide up and down along it, faster and faster, and shit... I'm so close. 

"Come," he whispers in my ear. 

"Aaaangellll," I moan as I come, my whole body shaking. He continues to move our hands along my cock, drawing out my orgasm. "Shiiiit," I whimper, gripping his other hand as I ride out the pleasure, gasping for breath. 

After what feels like years, I fall back against him, limp, with a sigh of contentment. "Fuck, that was amazing," I say. 

"You're amazing," he replies, tracing his tongue around the outside of my ear, making me shiver. He chuckles and then eases out from under me, urging me to lie on my back. I do, because I'm completely sated and willing to do pretty much anything he wants at this point. 

He moves down my body, licking the cum from my chest, stomach and cock. God... that tongue. It's enough to drive me insane. I moan as he sucks on my sensitive cock, and he backs away. "Fine, I'll give you a little time to recover," he says with a smile. 

He settles between my legs, his head resting on my stomach. I breathe a sigh of relief, and run my fingers through his hair. He starts purring, and I love when he does that. It's so relaxing. 

I close my eyes, pretty damn content for the moment. It's nice, that we can just enjoy being together like this. Of course it never lasts forever, our hunger for each other always takes over eventually. And this time, it's him who decides he needs more. After a just few minutes, I feel one of his hand wandering up my body to pinch and tease my nipple, and the other moving to my thigh, tracing little designs on the skin, making me shiver. 

Fuck. This is giving me time to recover? "A-aaaaangeeeel," I moan when he turns his head and latches onto a patch of skin on my navel, sucking hard enough to leave a hickey. Shit, how would it feel if his fangs sank in, right there? I try to shake off that thought and switch to thinking about something else. 

And that's basically impossible, when you have a horny vampire sucking and pinching and squeezing and rubbing and - "Angel." He looks up at me and I continue, "I love you. I love the way you touch me. I love the way you seem to always know where to touch me to make me scream and beg. I love it _when_ you make me scream and beg. But if you don't give me at least ten more minutes to recover, without your highly enjoyable brand of torture, I'm not going to be able to enjoy it completely when you're inside me." 

He pouts up at me, and when I frown back he shrugs. "Fine. Humans," he adds, rolling his eyes. 

"Vampires," I reply, mimicking his eye roll. 

He laughs. "Okay, point taken," he replies with a wink. "Rest, because I will want you to enjoy every second of our lovemaking," he adds as he lays his head back down on my stomach. 

Damn, my cock just twitched. No. I'm resting now. I will NOT think about his hands, his lips, his tongue, his teeth... SHIT. This is really not good. 

* * *

Chapter Six 

It's been thirty minutes, and I'm sure he can sense how horny I am, not to mention feeling my erection pressed against his stomach. He hasn't said a word or really touched me, though. He just lies there, one hand stroking up and down over my hip lightly. He's doing what I asked, giving me time to recover. 

But really, it's more than that. He's waiting for me to give in and make the first move. And I'm waiting for _him_ to give in and make the first move. This is a familiar game we play. What's also familiar is the fact that I give in first. "Angel... please... " 

He crawls up my body and lies on his side facing me, pulling me onto my side too. "Please what?" he asks, acting completely oblivious. 

"Fuck me, Angel!" I demand. 

"No." 

I look at him and yes, I know what he wants to hear. And fine, I can ask for it. "I... Angel... make love to me." 

He smiles. "For the rest of our lives," he says as he kisses me, suckling my lower lip. 

I moan, as the tip of his finger slides into my tight passage. Where the hell did he get lube? "Fuuuuck." Okay, so that wasn't the important question. Especially when he pushes further in, and rubs my prostate. "Angel!" 

He kisses me and I suck on his tongue eagerly. I love the way he kisses. I feel so wanted, so loved, so needed, so possessed. Yeah, I've always wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere. And it's been so fucking long since I felt that. To be honest I haven't had it since before I was sent to L.A, almost twenty years ago. Something I now can thank my parents for, since it did get me to the same city as Angel. 

"Hey." 

I look up at him. "Sorry. Kinda spaced." 

"That's _not_ allowed," he frowns and increases the pressure on my prostate. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaashiiiiiiiit," I groan. He starts to push another finger inside me, and I whimper. 

"Shiiiit is right," Angel replies with a smirk. "Damn, Linds, you're so tight. Relax for me." 

I take a deep breath and relax my muscles, moaning when he slips further in. 

He's breathing now, and that means he's enjoying himself. He pushes me onto my back and pulls his fingers out. I whimper and he says, "Open yourself up for me, Lover." 

I know what he wants. I refused last time, and he didn't push it. 

"Please," he whispers, kissing me, tugging on my lower lip as he pulls away. 

Shit. I pull my legs up to my chest, and then run my hands down my thighs to my ass. I pull my cheeks apart, holding myself open for him. I gasp when he pushes two fingers inside, even deeper than before, and scissors them, stretching me. 

"Fuck, Lindsey," he groans, meeting my gaze. "You have no idea how amazing it is, watching you contract around my fingers, on top of feeling it... I swear I could come just from seeing this." 

He pushes a third finger inside me, and I whimper from the burning sensation. I've never been filled that much before, and I don't think I can take it. I try to pull back, and he puts his hand on my stomach, holding me still. 

"Angel," I whimper. 

"Trust me," he says, stroking my cock lightly. "Relax and let me in." 

I take a deep breathe and try, but it isn't easy. And then he starts rubbing my prostate and all I feel are lightning bolts of incredible pleasure. "Shit. Angel... God...DON'T STOP!" 

He leans down to lick and bite the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, as his fingers continue to slide in and out of me. He moves slowly at first, stretching me, preparing me for his cock. 

Slow is good, but not forever. "Faster," I gasp. He complies, speeding up his movements. I buck up, driving him deeper inside me, and squeeze his fingers with my inner muscles, the way I would his cock. "Please..." I gasp as I feel myself nearing my orgasm. 

"Please?" he asks, nibbling on the inside of my left thigh. 

"Need you inside," I moan. 

"I am," he replies with a smirk up at me. 

"Fuck," I practically growl. "PLEASE, Angel! I need your cock inside me." 

He grins and I know what he's thinking. I've come a long way in the last three years, from the guy who would never say exactly what I wanted when we fucked, to someone who will beg for anything, and in very graphic terms. 

He twists his fingers inside my passage and only then I realize he's begun working yet another finger inside me at some point and I didn't even notice. Before I can protest the pain, he scratches his fingernails lightly over my prostate, repeatedly. 

"AAAAANGGGGGGGEEEEL!" I scream, gripping the sheets and using every bit of self-control I have to keep from coming. I don't want to do that until he's inside me. 

He smiles and gets onto his knees as he continues to work my sensitive gland. And even if I am resisting the urge to come, I'm not _that_ good. I'll come anyway, because it's too fucking GOOD. "Please please please please please!" 

"Please?" he replies, looking up at me with that maddening innocent expression. 

"Pleasestop," I beg, unable to control my body as my passage contracts around his fingers, making the pleasure so much more intense. 

"Stop what?" he asks. 

"Fuck, Angel, I don't ... don't wanna.... come yet," I manage between gasps for breath. 

"No?" he asks, but then relents when I whimper. "All right. Not until I'm inside you," he agrees. He withdraws his fingers and I moan, feeling so empty, suddenly. 

I continue to hold myself open, as he positions himself at my entrance. "Squeeze me, Linds," he says. "Squeeze me as hard as you can without it being uncomfortable for you." He starts to push inside, and I tighten my walls around his cock, giving him some friction. 

"Oh hell," he growls, as he moves forward, just a fraction. "Yessss Lindsey... just like that," he adds, his voice hoarse with desire. "Shit, I love you." 

"Love you too," I moan, in between pants for breath. 

He rotates his hips and I whimper when his cock slides against my prostate. "Pleeeeease." 

"You sure are demanding tonight," he whispers as he pushes just a little deeper. "Fuck. Feels so good," he moans. He licks and kisses his way up my throat and jaw to my mouth, thrusting his tongue inside at the exact moment that he thrusts his cock inside me, all the way. 

"ANGEL!" I scream against his lips, my cock twitching and shit, my orgasm is just seconds away. I know he's inside me, but I still don't want to come yet. I don't want to miss a single second of this. 

"What? You want me to move?" he asks, as he withdraws slowly, until just the head of his cock is inside me. 

"Fuuuuuuuck!" is my eloquent response. 

He smiles. "I already told you, that's not what this is. Can't you feel the difference?" 

"God yes," I whimper. Shit, he starts sliding back inside, even slower than when he pulled back. I keep myself pulled wide open for his cock and fuck, it makes it all feel so much better. 

He rolls his hips, rubbing over my prostate with the head of his cock, over and over. "Tell me how it feels," he groans. "I need to know." 

"Good," I whimper. "Shit. So good. Better than anything ever... ever before..." I pull my legs closer to my chest, letting him slip further into my passage. "Yes... need more," I beg. "Please, Angel, fuck." 

"More?" he says, sliding deeper. "Like that?" 

"YES..." I gasp. 

"Or like ..." he pulls out, completely. Before I have a chance to protest, he slams back inside me. I buck up against him, as I scream, 

"AAAAAANNNNNNGGGGGGGEEEELLL!" And shit, I almost come, but he grabs my cock, squeezing the base and holding off my orgasm. 

He starts moving, slowly again, as he latches onto a spot on my throat, sucking on it. I moan, sliding my fingers into his hair and holding him there. He pulls away suddenly and I catch that all too familiar guilty expression on his face before he shakes it off. 

I feel like I'm getting a cramp in one of my legs, so I slide them down and wrap them around his hips. I whimper when the change in angle makes him brush against my prostate on each thrust inside me. "Love you," I gasp. 

He smiles and kisses me. I run my hands over his chest, pinching his nipples. He groans and falters in his movements. I can't help grinning at the knowledge that I can affect him so strongly he can't even concentrate on making love with me. 

He grabs my hands and pins them to the bed above my head. He smirks at my half-hearted struggles. "Shit, I really like seeing you this way," he says. "Think you might ever let me tie you up?" 

The thought of being completely helpless, at his mercy, makes me whimper. But not out of fear. Hell, no. Shit... I... "Might be... persuaded," I gasp as he continues to move, so slowly, each thrust rubbing my prostate. 

"I bet you might," he smiles. "In fact, I think just the thought of being tied to this bed, as I make love to you for hours, not letting you touch me, not even letting you _come_ , making you beg and scream... I think just imagining that gets you hot..." 

Oh my god. I thought I was as hard as I was going to get. I was wrong. "Angel... please..." I moan. 

He chuckles. "I think I'll take that as a yes. I'll just file that plan away for future reference, then." He kisses me and transfers my wrists to one hand and moves his other hand between us, to my cock. 

"ANGEL!" I yell, tearing my mouth away from his and thrusting my hips up, sending his cock deeper inside me. "Aaahfuck," I moan. 

"Do you want to come, Lindsey?" he asks, looking into my eyes, as he starts thrusting faster. 

"Hellyes," I whimper. "Please." 

"I love the way I can make you beg when I'm inside you," he whispers. "Shit, I love everything about being inside you. I really love it when you squeeze me... ohyeah... fuck, Linds. _Just_ like that." 

He moves his hand that was on my cock further down to rub my perineum and I moan. "Angeeeeeeeeeellll..." I'm so close. I can't hold it much longer. And I want him to come with me. I wait until he withdraws, almost completely, and then I clamp my muscles down around him as he thrusts back inside me. 

"SHITLINDSEY!" he screams, and bites down on my throat. It's not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to send me over the edge too, bucking and screaming his name. He continues to thrust inside me, and I feel his cool seed flood my insides. 

When I finally come down from that incredible high, I realize he's rolled us over so he won't crush me with his weight. I'm straddling his hips now, my head on his chest. His spent cock starts to slip from me and I moan in disappointment, pushing back, not wanting to lose that feeling of being so full. So complete. 

He chuckles, "You're insatiable," as he slides two fingers inside me. That satisfies me, for the moment anyway. 

"You always said...fuck..." I lose my train of that when he rubs my prostate. "...said... that you loved that about me." 

"Yeah, and I do," he replies. "Oh. I think this is the perfect time to show you something - one of many things - that I bought for tonight." 

I moan as he pushes something inside me - fuck - it's a little larger than his cock but shit... It feels so good. He works it inside me slowly, and I whimper. "Angel fuck... what..." 

"Butt plug," he answers. "It'll keep you stretched open and ready for me, not to mention make you--" 

"FUCK!" I scream as he pushes it deeper, because shit... it's big enough that it's keeping constant pressure on my prostate. "Angel... god... " I pant. 

"I knew you'd like that," he says as he works it just a little deeper, before moving his hand away and sliding them up over my back. "So... Want to take a shower?" 

"Uh..." is all I can manage with the intense pleasure shooting through my body. 

"On second thought, maybe a bath would be better," he says. "You might not be able to walk, let alone stand, until you get used to having that inside you." 

I just look up at him, skeptically. "You think I'm gonna... get used to it?" 

"You will," he smirks. "You'll get used to a lot of things before this night is out." 

I moan as he pulls me to my feet and the butt plug shifts against my prostate. And oh my god. I think he's decided to kill me with pleasure. 

Not that that would be a horrible way to die. 

* * *

Chapter Seven 

He takes my hand and we walk into the bathroom. Wow. He even lit candles in here. And there's a bottle of wine in a bucket next to the large circular bath we've taken advantage of several times before, along with two glasses. I can't help smiling; he really planned for tonight. 

He turns on the faucets of the bath and then turns back to me. He smiles as he pulls me to him. "I love that smile. I don't see it often enough. Guess that means I'll have to do more stuff like this?" 

"You don't have to do these kinds of things to make me happy, Angel," I shrug. 

"No, but I like to," he says with a smile. "Been a while since I've had someone to do things for." 

His hands have slid down to my ass, and he starts to knead it, making me moan. "An--fuck," I whimper as he presses the tips of two fingers inside me on one side of the butt plug, making it press harder on my prostate. My cock twitches against his hip and he pulls me tighter against him. "Shit," I gasp, grabbing his arms so I won't collapse under the onslaught of pleasure. "Angel... please..." 

"Please what?" he whispers in my ear. "Do you want to come, Linds?" 

"Um.... duh?" I reply with a chuckle as I rest my forehead against his chest. "Ahh... god..." I add as he presses the butt plug even harder against my prostate. Shit. I can hardly breathe, and when I try to pull away, he presses harder still. "A-an-angel," I whimper and my legs finally do give out on me. 

He slips his arm around my waist, keeping me upright, as he starts moving the butt plug in little circles against my prostate. I throw my head back and try to get a breath, but then he starts nibbling on my throat, so that's not helping any. "Angel, I ... shit... I can't... I'm gonna... come... you gotta stop." 

"That would make sense if I didn't _want_ to make you come," he answers, his lips against my ear. "But it just so happens that I _like_ watching that, so stop fighting the pleasure. Just give into it, let it happen." Before I can reply, he thrusts his two fingers all the way inside me, stretching me more I've ever been stretched. Before I can protest about the discomfort, he does something that makes the butt plug start to vibrate. 

"FUUUUUUUUCK!" I scream as my orgasm crashes through me. All I can do is hold onto him as I come and come, more powerfully than I ever have before. He holds me tightly against him, and kisses me, gently, as I ride out the waves of pleasure. I moan into his mouth and suckle on his tongue as it pushes inside my mouth. 

I finally stop coming, after what feels like hours, and go limp in his hold. He breaks the kiss and nibbles his way to my throat, licking and suckling, as I try to pull my thoughts together. "Holy shit," I say, my voice hoarse from screaming. 

He looks up at me and smiles. "I had a feeling you'd like that," he says. I whimper when he presses against the still-vibrating butt-plug, sending it against my sweet spot again. 

"Yeah," I gasp. "But I can't... I need..." 

"I know," he replies with a smile and the butt plug stops vibrating. "But it's staying inside you." I moan in protest and he kisses me quickly. "Recovery time you get, but you're also staying ready for when I can be inside you again. 

"Now..." he gives me an appraising look. "Can you stand on your own while I turn off the water?" 

"Yeah," I nod, but I grab the edge of the sink just in case. He chuckles at me and then turns the faucets off. He holds out a hand to me then. "All right. Check the water, first, though. I've been told I like it hotter than humans can stand." 

I move past him and dip my fingers into the water. "Perfect," I reply. "I like it really hot." I step into the water, then lower myself to a sitting position, whimpering a little as the butt plug shifts again. 

"You'll get used to it" Angel says, smiling at me. "Maybe not completely in one night, but after a few weeks, definitely." He then steps into the bath behind me, and then sits down with his legs on either side of me. I lean back against his chest with a sigh of contentment. 

"Wine?" he asks, as he reaches over to the wine bottle, which I notice he uncorked earlier. 

"Sure," I reply. One thing I've discovered about him is he has really good taste in wines. Well, he has really good taste in just about _everything_ , actually. I guess in almost three hundred years, you learn how to pick out the good stuff. 

He hands me a glass and I take a sip. "So what other surprises do you have planned?" I wonder. 

He chuckles. "They wouldn't be surprises if I _told_ you," he points out. 

"Get technical, why don'tcha," I sigh, earning another laugh. "What?" I ask, turning my head to look up at him. 

He shakes his head, "That's really funny, coming from a lawyer. You _love_ to weasel your way out of questions by 'getting technical' with your answers." 

I frown at him, mostly because I can't deny the truth in his words. I hate when he does that. "Hey, I _don't_ 'weasel'. I ... dodge," I finish with a little shrug. 

"Whatever," he says with a smile, taking my chin in his hand and leaning down to kiss me. "All I know is you're the only person who's as guarded about his past life as I am." 

I look away, because, again, he's right. 

"Look, Lindsey, just forget I said anything," he says, resting a hand on my thigh. I look up at him again as he adds, "It doesn't matter." 

"Yes, it does," I reply. "I probably know more about your past than you do about mine. And that's not fair." 

"We're not keeping score here," he replies, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me back against him. "And besides, this is your birthday and I wasn't planning on bringing you down ... well, _ever_ , but especially not today of all days. So really, I mean it; it _doesn't_ matter." 

"It probably doesn't to you, but it does to _me_ ," I say. "And shit, it's not like I can't trust you enough to tell you stuff about my past." 

"It doesn't mean you have to tell me now, Lindsey," he replies. 

"I want to," I say. "I mean, we're going with honest now, right? And it's not like there's anything to tell about my past that would be worse than the stuff you already know about me," I shrug. 

I take another sip of the wine and ask, "So what do you want to know about? My family? That consists of momma, dad, and my little sister Emmy. She's the one who left the message earlier tonight. 

"They live in Georgia, but I moved...no, actually I was _sent_ here when I was sixteen." I can't keep the anger out of my voice when I say that, but amazingly Angel doesn't even ask. I tell him anyway. "My parents didn't deal well when they figured out I wasn't exactly straight." 

A few seconds later, he responds. "Oh." 

I nod. "Yeah. Oh. They sent me here, to live with my aunt and uncle. I think they really believed that getting me away from the guy I was... inlovewith -" Smooth, Lindsey, _so_ smooth. "They thought it would ... I dunno... make me decide I was wrong, and I wasn't really bi. And when I didn't change my mind, they - he - decided I wasn't part of their lives anymore." 

He doesn't say a word, and I'm glad. I don't want sympathy or anger on my behalf or ... whatever he'd say. I can't even believe I _can_ talk about all of this, to him. I guess it just proves that I do trust him, more than I thought I did. 

"I was upset for a while," I continue. "But eventually I realized that being here in L.A. with my aunt and uncle was the best thing for me. Especially when I discovered that they didn't share my parents' opinions about me having a boyfriend. So it really worked out, in the end." 

"And I have stayed in touch with Emmy, even though for a while, my parents didn't want her to talk to me... but she didn't listen to them. I haven't heard from _them_ since I told them that leaving Georgia hadn't changed my mind about being attracted to men, as well as women. Dad never got over his disappointment. He didn't even want me... I ..." I shake my head again and finish my glass of wine. "I didn't even find out he was dead until the day of the funeral, when Emmy finally managed to get away from Momma and call me. The asshole had gotten lung cancer but I didn't... he insisted that he didn't have a son." I close my eyes against the tears that always threaten to fall when I think about how wrongly things ended between us. 

"Hey. Not getting to know you was _his_ loss," Angel says softly. Shit. How does he always know the right thing to say? "I know it doesn't make it hurt any less, though. My father was always disappointed in me too, for different reasons. I was too lazy, too slow, too ruled by my hormones..." 

He tightens his arms around me and adds, "But I don't want to talk about him anymore, and I'm sure you don't want to talk about _your_ dad either. Like I said, I want you to just enjoy yourself, tonight." 

"So far, you're doing a good job of making that happen," I reply with a smile. 

"Good," he whispers in my ear. He grabs a washcloth and soaps it up, before starting to wash me, slowly. First one hand, then my arm, then up to my shoulder, and neck, before going down the other arm. I just melt against him as he continues with my chest, and stomach, and then my cock. After several minutes that feel like several hours, I whimper, 

He says, "I know you want to come, but be patient. Turn around and face me." 

I do, because then he can get the full effect of my pout. He smiles as he washes my legs and feet. "That would be so much more effective if you hadn't already come _several_ times tonight," he says. 

"It's my birthday," I point out, still pouting. 

"Yes, it is, and as I said, I'm planning on making you hoarse from screaming from pleasure tonight. But I never said delayed gratification wouldn't be part of my plan. Turn around again, so I can get your back, and your hair." 

I sigh, but do as he asks. I learned a long time ago that arguing with Angel is as pointless as arguing with a brick wall. The guy gives a new definition to the term stubborn. And-- "Ohyeah," I moan as he massages my scalp while washing my hair. He's really good at that. Almost good enough to put me to-- 

"Hey. Wake up." 

I open my eyes with a start. "Shit. I fell asleep? I'm sorry, Angel," I say. 

"It's okay," he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "It was only for about fifteen minutes, which gave me enough time to wash up. And I didn't mind. I like that you're that relaxed around me. 

"Maybe much later tonight, when you can't come any more, I'll give you a full body massage with the _intent_ of putting you to sleep," he adds. 

"But for now..." he slips his hand under my ass and pushes his thumb and finger inside me, on either side of the butt plug. I moan, and my cock twitches, which makes me whimper, because it's so painfully hard. "Are you feeling up for ... anything?" he asks. 

"Oh...." I moan in reply. 

"Is that a yes or a no?" he wonders as he starts to slide the butt plug back and forth a little. 

"Shit," I gasp. 

"I'm waiting," he says, pressing a finger against my prostate. 

"Fuck..." I whimper, pushing back against him. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes!" I add, in case I wasn't clear enough for him. 

"Good answer," he replies, nuzzling my throat. He withdraws his finger and thumb, making me moan. "Now, the next question: where?" 

Oh. He was serious about his list of all the different places we were going to fuck tonight? Well, duh, this is _Angel_ , I should have _known_ he was. "Um... mirror, you said?" Shit. That was really far from coherent. 

"You get points for the attempt," he replies with a laugh, as if he read my thoughts. "And yeah, I did mention that full-length mirror," he says, talking about the one on the door. "I want to be able to enjoy looking at every inch of this incredible body of yours, while I'm pounding into it. I want to see the pleasure on your face as you come, and I want _you_ to see that too because I think it will make your orgasm so much more intense." 

I moan as my cock stirs. "Can't get _more_." And I sigh after I realize I missed a handful of words in that sentence. 

"You don't believe me?" he replies. "That's okay. I'll make you believe it." 

"Fuck. Me." 

When he laughs, I realize I said that out loud. "That _is_ part of the plan," he replies as he stands, pulling me to my feet. My legs don't quite cooperate, but he wraps an arm around my waist, holding me up until I regain my ability to stand. 

I step out of the tub and grab a towel, tossing him one too. 

"No you don't," he says, pulling mine out of my hands. Before I can ask, he starts drying me with it, gently. And I could definitely get used to being treated like this, not to mention to being _looked_ at like that. 

"Shit," I moan when he touches my oversensitive, very hard cock. 

"Don't worry, I have no intention of torturing you. Not tonight, anyway," he says with a smirk. Fuck, my cock twitches at the thought; and I swear he notices, because his smile widens. "Turn around." 

I turn to look into the mirror, and I swear, I'll never get used to that. How can he be used to it? "That doesn't bother you?" I wonder, jumping when his arms slide around my waist. There's no sign of him in the mirror, nothing, and of course I _know_ that's how it works, but it's still strange, feeling him and knowing he's there, but not seeing his reflection staring back at me. 

"You get used to it after a hundred years or so," he says and I feel him shrug. "Does it bother you?" 

I moan as he wraps his hand around my cock, stroking it lightly. Nothing in the mirror, other than the slight movement of my cock as his hand moves, but I can feel it, and when I look down, I can see it. 

"Lindsey?" 

"No," I reply, my voice nothing more than a moan. "It doesn't... bother me." 

"Good," he says. He pulls his hand away and I open my mouth to protest, when I feel fingers circling my hole. 

"Yes, please..." I beg, pushing back against him. Slick fingers push inside me, and I moan. Shit, I feel like I'm on fire from the inside. I'm about as hard as I can possibly get and even though I haven't had enough time since my last orgasm, I don't care. "Angel, please. I need...." Shit, he's taking too damn long. I push back against him, which sends his fingers as far as possible inside my passage. "GOD! Angel!" I scream, my head falling back against his chest. I'd come except for the fact that his hand is wrapped tightly around the base of my cock. 

"Look in that mirror," he whispers in my ear. "I want you to see yourself the way I do, Linds." 

I lower my head, reluctantly. The need is so evident in my eyes, my face is flushed and I'm panting from desire. The sight of myself would be embarrassing if I didn't trust him so much. Even so, it isn't easy to see myself so open, something I've trained myself not to be with anyone. 

"Hey. No spacing out," he says, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth. 

"I'm not," I say, shaking my head free of unwelcome memories. 

"You'd better not," he replies, pulling the butt plug out of my passage quickly. Before I can protest the loss, he's thrust three slick fingers inside me. He scissors them inside me, stretching me, while managing to rub my prostate repeatedly. 

"Oh...my....god," I moan. "Angel, please," I beg. 

""What do you want, Lindsey?" he whispers in my ear. "You want me to fuck you so hard you'll be sore for days?" He presses a fingernail into my prostate before I can answer, and I think that scream came from me. I raise up on my toes to relieve some of the pressure, and take in a deep breath, but he yanks me back down, making me scream again. 

He just keeps enough pressure on my prostate to blur the line between pleasure and pain and I feel like my whole body is on fire. I want him to stop, but I don't want him to stop. I want more; I need more, and "Yes!" I yell, finally dragging in enough breath to speak. 

"Yes, what?" he growls and I shudder as I feel his fangs graze my shoulder. 

"Ohfuck," I whimper, reaching up to the back of his neck, and trying to making him do it. "Please," I moan. "Drink me." 

He goes still and quiet, and I have just enough time to wonder what the fuck I said or did wrong. Then he whispers, "No," and before I can get upset, he withdraws his fingers, then pulls me back quickly with his other hand, impaling me on his cock. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEEELLLL!!" I scream, bracing my hands against the door on either side of the mirror, as I come _hard_. He does too, filling me with his seed, as he pumps his hips against me. And fuck, it _hurts_ a little, to come so hard and so much, after so wanting it for so long. Or maybe it's the fact that I've had... too many orgasms to count already tonight. I don't know. All I _do_ know is that the pain isn't more than the unbelievable pleasure coursing through my body. And somehow I manage to keep my eyes open as he asked, and shit, he's right, watching my face and the look in my eyes makes it all so much more intense. And I just keep coming, longer and harder than I ever have before. When I'm finally spent, my whole body is trembling and I'm not sure I can move. 

"Holy shit," is all I can manage to say. It's hardly a good enough response, but I really don't know what else to say. 

"I agree," he replies, nuzzling my throat. I whimper as he pulls away slightly, letting his cock slide from me. "And now I think it's time to move this somewhere else," he suggests. 

"Uh." And I think that's going to be my standard pleasure-overloaded response. 

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you were trying for a yes," he says, and I turn to see him smiling at me. "Come on," he says, turning me around and cleaning the cum from my stomach and thighs with a wash cloth. "Bed?" 

"Not tired," I say, but my yawn makes it clear my body disagrees. 

He chuckles. "Yeah, right. Come on; I think now might be a good time for that massage." 

I'm too content to argue with him, so I follow him into the bedroom instead. 

* * *

Chapter Eight 

I crawl into bed and lie on my back, looking at him. He's just standing there, by the side of the bed, looking at me. After a few seconds, I say, "You joining me or not?" 

He nods, "Of course I am." He smiles as he reaches into the bag I hadn't noticed before and pulls out a bottle of what I imagine is probably massage oil. "Can't give you a massage unless I'm touching you," he adds, as he sits down next to me. 

"Roll over," he says. I turn onto my stomach and jump a little when I feel the cool liquid on my skin. But I have no intention of complaining, since he immediately starts to massage my shoulders. And shit, he's good at that. He works his hands slowly down my back and then up again, paying attention to every inch along the way. I feel myself relaxing into the mattress and sigh contentedly. 

"Still with me?" he asks. 

I open my eyes and nod. "Yeah... god... that feels... really good," I say. I can feel the tension in my body dissolving under his talented hands. "I didn't ... know I was still that tense," I add. 

"Long week at work?" he guesses. I just nod. He massages down my arms and back up again, before sliding his hands down my back, kneading those muscles thoroughly as he does. "You're not working tomorrow, are you?" he wonders. 

"Saturday," I mumble. 

"I know that, but weekends don't always stop you from working," he replies, as he moves his hands down over my ass and starts to massage my thighs. And if I wasn't so exhausted, I'd be really turned on. But I just don't have the energy right now. At least that's what I keep telling my body. I'm only human, though, so I can't help feeling _something_ in response to his touch. 

Stop thinking about how good his hands feel. Just ... think about ... something else. "Do I have a reason not to work?" I ask. 

"Maybe," he replies. He's worked his way down to my feet, and massages them for a minute or two, before saying, "Turn over." 

I do as he says, and he starts to work on my feet again, and then up to my legs, inching upward slowly. Shit... I shouldn't be able to get turned on again, should I? He notices my semi-erect cock and smirks up at me. "You aren't tired yet?" he asks. 

"Exhausted," I reply. "I guess my body didn't get the memo." 

"You need to rest," he says firmly, and I'm not sure if he's trying to convince me or himself. Maybe both of us. I just nod, knowing he's right. I can't change how my body reacts to him, but that doesn't mean I'm physically able to stand any more pleasure tonight. 

"I'll stop torturing you then," he says and crawls up to lie on his side next to me, one arm across my stomach. He just looks and me, and even though he's smiling, I know something's bothering him. And, I know exactly what it is. I don't know _why_ it's bothering him, but I'm about to find out. "So are we gonna talk about it?" I ask. 

"Talk about what?" he replies, trying to pretend he doesn't know. And I can tell he doesn't want to talk about this, but that's just too damn bad. _He_ decided we should start this honesty thing, so that's what we're going to do. And that means even when it's stuff _he_ doesn't want to talk about. 

"Why you refuse to drink from me," I say. And that wasn't as difficult to say as I thought it would be. 

He frowns, and stares at his hand on my stomach, the fingers tracing little patterns on my skin. "It's not that I don't want to," he says after several minutes of silence. 

"And I want you to, so what's the problem?" I reply. 

He shakes his head, still not looking me in the eyes. "You don't know what you're asking--" 

"Like hell I don't," I interrupt him, and he finally _does_ look up at me. "I'm not some stupid kid who doesn't know anything about vampires, Angel. I studied demons for years while I was with Wolfram and Hart, and especially vampires. I studied their traditions, their history. I studied _you_ , first because I had to and later because I wanted to. So don't think I don't know what it means, if you drink from me. I do, and I want it. I want... I want to be yours." 

"You already are, Lindsey," he says, caressing my cheek gently. "You're mine, and we don't need a vampire ritual to make that true. Don't you understand that?" 

"Yeah, of course I do," I say, because I give up. I won't change his mind, and I don't want to end this night with us fighting. So I turn my back to him. "I'm just tired, Angel. That's all. Let's get some sleep." 

He grabs my arm and pulls me back onto my back. "You're a terrible liar, Lover. Have I mentioned that?" 

"A few times," I reply, looking away from his piercing gaze. "But just forget it, okay? I want you to claim me, you've made it very clear that you don't want to. Fine. We'll get past it, it's not a big deal--" 

He keeps me from saying any more by kissing me, gently. "It is a big deal to you, and that's why I'm not going to just forget it," he says. "And I never said I didn't _want_ to, Lindsey. Now, I want to know why it means so much to you." 

"I told you--" 

"You said you wanted to be mine, and I said you already are," Angel interrupts me. "So ... either you don't believe me, or --" 

"I do believe you, Angel," I tell him. 

"Then why?" he asks again. 

"Why? Because I wouldn't mind if others knew I was yours too," I admit, looking away because I know how secure that makes me sound. 

"But it's not just that," I add. "It's more that I just want to share that with you," I add. "I want to give you a part of me, something that you _need_. And I want the closeness it would give us. I want to feel what you feel and I want you to feel what I feel. Because I can't ever explain how I feel about you, but if you claimed me, you'd know." 

He doesn't reply, and after a few more seconds of torturous silence, I look at him. To my surprise and relief, he doesn't look too disgusted with me. Actually he doesn't look disgusted with me at all. 

"Are you _sure_ that you want this?" he asks, finally. "And think about it, really, think about it, right now, before you answer me. Because it's not just something we can do and take back, or change our minds about later. It lasts until one of us dies, and even past that, if some stories are correct. I've heard about human consorts being left either by being abandoned or by their lover's being destroyed, who end up committing suicide. I love you, and I want to make you mine; but I don't want to risk that happening to you." 

"I understand that," I say. "But you don't know I won't die if you don't claim me. Humans all die, Angel, it's just a matter of when. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that; I imagine you've seen all the possible ways that humans die. I could have a heart attack; I could be the victim of a random demon attack, or even a random human attack; I could get hit by a car; I could--" 

"Okay, I get it," he interrupts me. "But none of those things would make _me_ responsible for your death, like I would be if I left you." 

"And what if, one day, some demon attacks me because he knows that's a way to get to you?" I ask. 

"Don't go there," he growls, pulling away, and I can tell I've hit a nerve. "That will _never_ happen." 

"Angel, you can't protect me from everything and everyone that might possibly hurt me," I say quietly. "I know you want to, but you _can't_. So why go on the next .... however many years we have together playing it safe? I _want_ to be yours, for however long we have together. So what if it'll make us dependent on each other? If we don't last as a couple, then we'll just have to stay friends, so we can keep giving each other what we need. And if something happens to one of us... well... that could happen anyway, and there's no guaranteeing the other one of us will be okay, even without the bond. True, it increases the risk of something bad happening to the survivor, but I'm willing to deal with that. In my opinion, the pros outweigh the possible cons on this issue. And for the record, you wouldn't be responsible, if something happened to me. I _know_ what I'm getting into here, and I want it anyway." 

He smiles a little and shakes his head. "Now I know why you chose law practice as your profession. You're very good at arguing your point." 

"I've been told I'm more so when I really mean what I'm saying," I reply. And I can't tell what he's thinking right now, I just know he _is_ thinking about it. "But like I said before, if you don't want--" 

"I want to," he says, kissing me passionately enough to prove his point. "For completely selfish reasons, and you have no idea how hard it's been _not_ to. But I didn't want to trap you--" 

"You're not trapping me," I say firmly, meeting his gaze. "I know what I'm getting into here and I want it. And I will not change my mind about it later." 

"You can't know that," he replies. 

"I can and do," I say. "And since I know you well enough to know your next question is going to be 'how?'..." He smiles and I smile back, "I'll just tell you and save us the trouble. I know because being with you feels right. More right than when I've been with anyone else." And I can't believe I'm being _this_ honest and blunt about how I feel about him, but I guess it's okay, since he's not mocking me. 

In fact, he's smiling. He leans in to kiss me, and I wrap my arms around his neck as his tongue explores my mouth. He pulls away before I insist on the need to breathe, and stares down at me. His face changes, and I'm not even tempted to flinch in response. I can see how he feels about me, in the way he looks at me now, as well as I can when he's in his human face. I reach up to trace the ridges on his forehead, and he purrs, making me smile. 

"You're not even a little bit afraid of me," he says, in amazement. 

"Should I be?" I ask. 

"No, but--" 

"Well then why would I be?" I say, touching his cheek. "I love you and I trust you," I tell him. 

He kisses me again, and this time I thrust my tongue inside his mouth, carefully running it over his fangs. He groans, and I feel his cock grow hard against my thigh. He pulls away and I shudder at the hungry way he looks at me. Not because I'm afraid, but because I feel the same way. 

"Tell me one more time," he says. 

I don't need to ask what he means. "I'm absolutely certain about wanting you to claim me, Angel," I say, meeting his gold-flecked eyes and hoping that I've convinced him. 

He kisses me again, gently, before moving to cover his body with mine as he nuzzles my throat. I shiver as the desire for this - for him - shoots through my body. "Yes," I whisper, burying a hand in his hair, as my other arm slides around his waist. 

"I love you Lindsey, and by marking you I make you mine, forever," he whispers in my ear. I gasp as I feel his fangs sink into my throat, and I close my eyes against the burning pain, knowing it can't _only_ be pain. And with the first pull of the blood as he starts to drink from me, I discover my assumption was right. "Y-yours," I groan, tightening my hand in his hair and my arm around him, as I buck up against him, suddenly impossibly hard. 

He withdraws his fangs, and I whimper. But then his hand closes around my erection, and starts jerking me off, and I gasp. I can't seem to form words, as he strokes me hard with one hand while continuing to suckle on the puncture wounds on my throat. I just moan and whimper, thrashing around underneath him, as he makes me feel things I've never felt before. Shit, if I'd known it was _this_ amazing, I would've tried so damn harder to convince him. 

"Come, NOW," he growls in my ear, and "AAAAAANGGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLL!" I scream, and I take it back, THIS is the hardest I've ever come before in my fucking life! I swear I see fireworks, and then my vision goes black for a second. And when I can see again, I'm lying on top of him, my head on his chest as he holds me tightly. 

I raise my head to look up into worried eyes and I smile. "Shit, Angel... that was... " I shake my head, because I can't put it into words. 

He lets out a sigh of relief and pulls me to him for a kiss. "Yeah," he agrees. "But... we're not quite done." He gets that worried look again, and I thought _I_ was insecure. 

"Yeah," I say. "So... how?" I ask. 

He rolls us over and then sits up. "Stay put," he says. "I only took a little blood, but I'd rather we just didn't risk you blacking out again." Then he leaves and I don't like that at all. He's back soon, though and he's carrying a knife from the kitchen. And that I don't like, either. 

"Hey," he raises my head to look into my eyes, and I can tell he understands that I don't want to hurt him. "Lindsey, I'm a demon," he points out, rather unnecessarily in my opinion. 

"So?" I ask. 

"So," he says, "I won't mind... actually, I'll... not mind a lot." He gets this embarrassed expression and looks away and _oh._ Okay, I get it. Demon. Therefore, that part of him will enjoy it when I cut him. 

I move into his line of sight and he meets my eyes hesitantly. "That works out then," I say with a smile. 

He smiles too, and sighs in obvious relief. "I was hoping that wouldn't turn you off," he says. 

"Hell no," I grin. "I think we could have some fun with that kink, don't you?" 

I gasp as I find myself pinned to the mattress with him on top of me. "Only if we can have some fun with your kinks, too," he says. 

"Like what?" I ask, trying not to sound as curious as I am. 

He smirks. "Like, for example, if I were to tie you to this bed and see how many hours of fucking you could take before you started to beg me to let you come." 

I bite back a groan and shit, he knows me too well. 

He chuckles and kisses me quickly, before saying, "I can smell your desire, Linds. So we both know that's something you are interested in, but we'll explore that kink - and others after we've completed the bond." 

He hands me the knife and I nod. I can do this, of course I can. It's just a little cut, and he'll heal instantly. 

So why am I hesitating? 

He puts his hand over mine and I look up at him. "When I drank from you, I made you mine, and now I want you to make me yours, Lindsey," he says. 

Well shit. _That's_ not something I'm going to refuse to do. I nod again, and he helps me make the cut, over where his heart would be. I don't miss the symbolism in that act. The cut starts to bleed and I catch some of it on my finger, bringing it to my mouth. 

He groans, and I meet his eyes to see he's slipped into his demon face again. "Do it, please do it," he says, his eyes practically begging me. What, I'm going to say no? I didn't gag at the taste of the little blood I got on my finger, so I lean in to lick at the cut. It doesn't taste bad at all, it reminds me of when I get a paper cut and stick my finger in my mouth. He groans again and slips a hand into my hair, pulling me closer, and I feel his cock twitch against my thigh. I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to make him lose it like he did to me, so I press my mouth to the wound and suck at it. 

"Shityes," he groans, and I smile and slip a hand between us to stroke his cock lightly. His grip on my hair tightens almost painfully, and I'll take that as meaning he likes what I'm doing. And I really don't mind the taste of his blood at all. It may be my imagination, but I could swear it tastes like power. I just can't get enough of it. 

But unfortunately for me, vampire healing works within seconds with just this little cut. Not even really thinking about it, just wanting more, I bite down hard enough to break the skin. "FUCKLINDSEY!" he yells, as I feel his semen spill onto our stomachs. "Oh shit... Love you," he gasps. I keep sucking at the blood, amazed that _I_ did _that_ to him. f 

After a few more seconds, he pulls my head away, and I have _never_ whined like that before. I can't help it, I just want _more_... but he keeps me back. "Lindsey." I meet his eyes and he says, "I know you want more, but that's enough for now. My blood is very powerful; I don't know what it might do to you if you take too much." 

I nod, watching in amazement as the bite mark I made heals up in a few more seconds. "I ... I felt that power," I tell him. 

"I'm sure you did," he says, pulling me to him for a kiss. I sigh into his mouth and feel my body relaxing against his. I break the kiss to breathe, and he turns us onto our sides, using a corner of the sheet to clean the semen from our bodies. When he's done, I slide closer, and tuck my head under his chin, sighing contentedly again. 

He wraps an arm around me and asks, "Are you happy?" 

"Yeah," I nod, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

"Good, because I am too," he says. "Sleep now, you need it. I'll be here when you wake up." 

I smile again. "Well, I guess I will have a reason not to work tomorrow, after all," I say. 

"Sleep, Lindsey, and tomorrow I'll give you more than just _one_ reason not to work," he says. And shit, that's just... not fair. But I guess it's something to dream about, and that way I'll be rested enough to really enjoy all those reasons not to work. 

"I love you," he whispers, just as I feel myself drifting off. And I believe him, and I also believe he's not going to change his mind tomorrow. So for the first time in three years I have no trouble relaxing and falling asleep, knowing I won't be waking up alone for once. 

The End 

* * *

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